


The Devil In I

by Kareh



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, because apparently that didn't hurt me enough????, inspired by tmnt idws city fall arc, ok ill stop tagging now sorry, so i decided i wanted more foot!leo and pain and suffering????, whyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5434952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kareh/pseuds/Kareh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Leonardo has been missing for almost a year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been saved in my computer since the start of 2015 in a document called "it waS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT!" because it was. It really was. And somehow it's spiralled out of control into a 14k+ fan fiction. Oops? I started this before I'd read any of the ongoing IDW comics, because I'd seen a couple of pictures of Leonardo in foot gear. In the time it took me to collect all of the comics until that point and start reading, I speculated. I only intended to write a couple of scenes about the feelings and to leave them ambiguous enough, plot wise, that they could have maybe slotted in as missing scenes or pics that went with IDW. Except I ended up with about 6k and a plot was emerging and it would not leave me alone until I wrote it.  
> The original idea I had come up with to explain the brainwashing was just too too complicated in that it opened up more and more questions, so when 2012 introduced brainworms, I just decided to borrow that.  
> This is kind of new territory for me, as I haven't tried to write a full story with an actual plot like this in many years so it's very scary to be sharing this! This fic is going to be about 20k with roughly 10 chapters - I still have a bit left to write but everything is mapped out and planned, I'm just hoping I may get a couple of nice reviews that might get will motivate me to finish it before my winter break is over!
> 
> Just a heads up - this fic is kinda dark, it probably contains swearing somewhere and definitely descriptions of panic attacks, brainwashing flashbacks and generally a rather questionable mental health state of one turtle in particular, really.

He's woken abruptly by the light being switched on. His eyes shut the moment they open, protesting against the light. He has to blink a few times before he can adjust, his sight blurred. He's so tired and everything hurts and he just wants to sleep - but he can hear movement outside of his room and he knows that isn't a good thing.  
He shifts onto his knees, backing up against the corner. He nearly throws up when he sees the state of the room he's being forced to exist in - the blood is everywhere, the stench of death in the room is overwhelming at the best of times but being able to see it is worse. He turns his head to vomit but there is nothing to bring up – his stomach painfully empty.

He quickly, albeit shakily, clambers to his feet. He stumbles around, hardly getting time to regain himself before he is knocked to the ground again by the sudden pain that overrides his brain. His hands to fly to his head; as if that will stop the pain. His brain feels like it’s going to explode. Lights flash behind his eyes and he feels his limbs moving but he cannot control them. 

Not for the first time, he wishes for death.

* * *

_The taste of copper in his mouth as a fist connects with his jaw. His limbs shaking in protest as he struggles back onto his feet. He moves as quickly as he can but it's not fast enough. There's pain. Hands around his neck, nails digging into his skin and blurred vision and he loses consciousness._

* * *

He doesn't know how long he's been here but it feels like forever - long enough that what he remembers of life before this place seems almost imaginary. His throat is dry and his stomach empty and he's so _tired_. His body feels heavy and moving any part of his body is painful but he can't locate where the pain starts and where it ends, instead it just feels like he's one big ball of pain. He is filthy – covered in grime and dirt and dried blood. He knows not all of it belongs to him - and that makes it so much worse. The smell is nauseating. He shifts, slightly, and lets out a yelp - hands flying to his thigh, the pain so intense and memories of obtaining his latest injuries that he starts to imagine horrific scenes of how his leg must be. He knows he'll regret it, but he lifts his head up enough to see the extent of his injuries. It's not as bad as he had pictured in his mind - he had been coming up with wild, horrible images of his leg hanging off. He strains to push himself up into a sitting position and leans down to touch his toes – he can still feel his toes. He takes it as a good sign. The relief fades when he sees the floor beneath him that’s stained with blood. He’s pretty sure that amount of blood is not supposed to come out of him – why isn’t he dead? Upon further inspection, he realizes his wound has been sloppily stitched together and cleaned – but why?

Feeling queasy all of a sudden, he turns his head to the right just in time not to throw up on himself again. He shudders, the taste of copper in his mouth alerting him to the fact that his vomit is mostly blood and stomach acid. Not a good sign, he knows. He shudders violently, suddenly feeling very cold in the small room. His throat is raw and burns; he swallows, hoping to lessen the feeling but it just makes it worse. He makes a noise - a shrilling, wailing noise - before he can stop himself. He can feel himself shaking; and he moves onto his side with a great deal of effort, using his hands to push himself further into the corner and away from the horrors of the room.  He shuts his eyes tight and tries to remove himself from the situation, mentally. He thinks of happier times; distant thoughts of his family, pictures of a childhood he can’t quite remember. He pretends he's somewhere safe.

He feels himself starting to drift, unintentionally seeking for something familiar and comforting. Someone. He can feel the gentle probing, a familiar presence. He goes to it, instinctively, and when he does he can feel the concern but mostly the love and comfort that he's so desperately longed for. The presence is encouraging, drawing him in.  He can hear the voice of his father in his head, calling him home.

But he does not let himself go any further and instead of following it, he remembers his sins and he knows he is unworthy of such love; and so he startles and flees, dropping the connection before it can even fully be made.

 

* * *

 

_He wakes up with a bright light in his face, the steady beep and voices he doesn’t recognize all around him._

_There’s a sharp pain in his leg – as if he’s being pierced with something._

_The voices around him are louder, frantic, but he can’t understand a word of what’s being said. It’s almost like he’s underwater – everything’s on too loud a frequency and he can’t -_

_Another stab of pain and this time he jumps – or tries to. His body and head are strapped into place. The beep is faster now, louder too._

_It all gets too much, the pain, the fear setting in._

 

* * *

 

There are no windows, no indication of time or day.    He's curled up into a small ball in a corner of the room. His chest heaves with empty sobs and the stench of fresh blood in the air again. He knows that, this time, none of it is his own. He shivers. 

It occurs to him that he should probably feel pain; but right now, he feels nothing but cold.  He feels it again – this presence in the back of his head. Something that tries to pull him in, connect with him. He thinks about reaching out to it –  but he quickly shakes himself free. He knows he’s imagining it and dwelling on dreams won’t get him anyway. But his reality is so empty. He shivers again, not from the cold but from the sudden emptiness now that he’s pushed away the presence he had felt moments again.

He’s alone.

There's a wailing sound somewhere in the room again and he freezes, scrambles onto his knees and pushing himself flat against the wall. _Oh god, what was that_. The lights out, making it hard to see anything. He stays very still, waiting.  The noise happens again, though, and that's when he realizes that it's _him_ \- he's the one making that sound.

He can't stop shaking - the band around his lungs gets lighter and he opens his mouth wide, trying to breathe but the air around him is toxic and he can't breathe.  All logic tells him that he is having a panic attack but he still wonders if this is it, if, finally, they've gotten bored of playing with him. Maybe they've realized that he's broken and that the only thing left to do is to put him out of his misery so they’ve poisoned the air or something. He shuts his eyes tight and forces himself to breathe and tries to calm himself.

He feels the familiar, comforting presence in the back of his mind again and it draws him in.  He clings to it, desperate to feel something warm, something safe.

_Please,_ Leonardo thinks. _Help me._

* * *

  _He dreams of a place where he’s safe. He recognises this place; but he can’t quite remember where it is. He stands in front of a tall tree. There are weapons on the wall behind him; but, strangely, Leonardo does feel threatened by their presence. Instead, he’s comforted._

_“Leonardo, my son,” A voice is saying – and it’s strange. This voice is – calm. Warm. At first it sounds foreign; the tone is nothing like the Shredder, after all. The only voice he’s heard in so long beside his own. But when he thinks about it, Leonardo realises he’s heard this voice before from somewhere. He looks around to figure out where the voice came from – but he’s alone in this room. There’s no one here._

_This is a trick, Leonardo thinks, a test._

_Leonardo reaches behind him for his katana, “Show yourself!”_

_He spins around to find a giant rat on the opposite side of the room, kneeling. Leonardo frowns, his grip loosening on his katana._

_“Do you remember me, my son?” Asks the rat. He’s unarmed, Leonardo notices. His eyes are closed, and his hands placed on his lap._

_“Father?” Leonardo frowns, confused._

_“You do not,” The rat smiles, “It is all right, my son. Please, sit with me.”_

_Leonardo looks around the room some more. They are alone. This room seems completely isolated – silent. Calm. Peaceful. It smells like green tea and incense._

_He’s so overwhelmed, suddenly, with a fierce sense of belonging. With the feeling that this place is his home, somehow. Even though he’s certain that he’s never been here before. There’s no way. Was there ever a time before that room? Before all of the pain?_

_“I am not here to hurt you,” says the rat, and Leonardo tries to believe him. Cautiously, he kneels._ _  
_ _“I’m so confused,” Leonardo whispers, more to himself than the rat, “I don’t understand._

_Why does this all seem so familiar and yet so alien at the same time? Who was he before all of this?_

_“You are not sure who you are,” the rat observes._

_“What’s happening to me?” Leonardo demands, he looks up, but suddenly the rat is no longer there. He gets to his feet, quickly. He spins around, searching for the rat but suddenly the room is much darker than it was before. Suddenly, the room starts to get colder, so cold that Leonardo can see his breath in front of him._

_“Wait,” Leonardo cries out to the rat, “Please. Don’t leave me.”_ _  
_

_He is immersed in darkness. Leonardo shivers; the fear and panic starting to sit in. He reaches for his katanas to find that they are gone. That he is defenceless. There’s a noise coming from somewhere, a horrible laughter._ _  
_

_Defeated, Leonardo falls to his knees._

_“Come back,” he says, but he knows the rat is long gone, “Please.”_

_Leonardo is completely and utterly alone; surrounded with nothing but vague memories of a life he’s not sure if he once had or just dreamed. It torments him; the more he fights for them, to reach for them and remember - they start to change. They seem to replace themselves with memories of the hurt he has experienced._ _  
__“Father!”_  

* * *

 When the door opens in the small room, Leonardo does not bother to stand. He has no energy left to fight or to care about what happens to him any longer. He shuts his eyes and waits for death – but nothing happens. No one strikes him.

“Leonardo,” says a voice, “Are you ready to accept me as your master?”

He thinks of the rat in his dreams. He remembers not of his comforting presence, of his reassurance or sad smile. Instead, he remembers the hurt that followed after he left. He remembers the darkness that swallowed him up and the demons that hid in it.

He opens his eyes to see that the man who spoke and something inside him tells him that the man isn’t to be trusted. He sees someone who is not man at all, but something much darker. But it’s the first time someone has spoken to him in so long - called him by his name that he had almost completely forgotten – that Leonardo can’t help but feel gratitude.

“Yes.”

_Forgive me_.


	2. Chapter 2

It's seven thirty in the morning and the fact that Donatello has been sitting in front of his computer all night has not been an uncommon sight in the Hamato household. His father retired to his room early last night, whilst Michelangelo had fallen asleep on the sofa as usual with Raphael beside him - that was starting to become a regular thing. Falling asleep beside each other, that is. It was their instinct to stick together most of the time - but especially when something bad happened. Something like the eldest turtle going missing.

It's been a long time - almost a year, in fact. All of a sudden, their brother was just gone.

 There's an answer somewhere. There has to be a clue, there has to be something he's missing. He just can't find it, no matter how hard he tries. Every lead they’ve had – it’s turned out to be nothing. There’s no trace of the turtle anywhere. It’s like he never even existed.  
But the quietness of the lair remains a reminder that someone is missing. When they train in the morning, there’s a space. Each of them take turns sparring with Master Splinter or fighting three on one because their leader isn’t there. The Space Heroes DVDs gathering dust by the TV – their brothers spot right in front of it, cold and empty. His empty seat at dinner. His bedroom door firmly closed.

Donatello hits a button on his keyboard; telling the computer to try again after the latest scan on the Shredders database came up empty again. He's starting to doubt the Shredders involvement; the Shredder likes to boast, after all, and if he was responsible for Leonardo's disappearance, Donatello is positive he'd be tormenting them about it.

So he leaves the search running and disappears off to get himself another cup of coffee and see if the youngest brother has made anything good for breakfast.  He enters the kitchen to find Michelangelo making pancakes on the stove and Raphael on a stool at the counter with his head buried in his hands. 

"Morning, Raph," Donatello says, lightly tapping the hotheads shoulder. Raphael groans and shifts; moving his arms flat on the table and nesting his head on them.

As the second eldest, Raphael got thrown into the role of leader. But he isn’t the kind of leader that Leonardo was – not the kind to lecture him about staying up late or drinking coffee as the eldest had. Not that Donatello would ever admit to missing that, though.

With Donatello staying up all night searching the internet and Raphael staying out to search the streets – the evidence of his late night adventures in the form of cuts, bruises and swollen knuckles – the two had felt more like equals than leader and follower lately. It was nice – more like the relationship he’d often observed Leonardo and Raphael – but it felt strange, too. He knows Raphael was fretting over them just as much as Leonardo had – but where Leonardo was more vocal in his concerns, Raphael kept his to himself.

"Just in time, Donnie," Michelangelo says, with such convincing cheeriness that Donatello would have believed, if not for the dark circles under the youngests eyes. "Your pancakes are almost done - can you take these to Splinter?" 

Donatello smiles gratefully at the youngest as he takes the plate of pancakes from him - covered, of course, in maple syrup. Their father has quite the sweet tooth - much like the youngest. His health has been deaerating of late; the stress of the eldests disappearance playing on the old rat’s mind. He has neglected to eat or sleep; instead, spending all day meditating, trying to locate his son.

Donatello's just about to leave the kitchen when they all hear a scream. They freeze for a split second before they jump into action; Raphael running straight for Splinter's room, Donatello abandoning the plate of pancakes on the counter and following closely behind with Michelangelo. 

Master Splinter is on the ground, breathing heavy and holding his head in his hands. 

"Sensei? Sensei, are you alright?" Raphael's kneeling down beside him.

"What happened?" Donatello asks, an audible thump as he scrambles down onto the floor, eyes roaming the rat, looking for clues. 

"I made contact with Leonardo," Master Splinter gasps. 

The brothers exchange looks - a million questions forming in their heads. 

"Let's talk about it over breakfast," Donatello suggests, placing a hand on the rats shoulder and realizing he can feel bone, "You really need to eat, sensei. Mikey made pancakes." 

Master Splinter nods, allowing Raphael to put his arm around his waist and help him to his feet.

* * *

 

"At least we know for sure that he's alive," Michelangelo says, and it’s the first smile that he’s seen on his youngest brothers face for such a long time. Donatello feels a pang of relief – comforted by Michelangelo’s optimism. He flashes the youngest a small smile, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

"Sensei? What happened?" Raphael asks, jumping straight to the point and looking more serious and much older than Donatello has ever seen him with his arms crossed. They all turn to look at their father. 

“He called to me without intending to,” Master Splinter says, his expression unclear, “so I felt everything that he was feeling in it’s purest form.”

“He’s hurting,” Michelangelo’s voice is small. It’s not a question; they already know the answer. Master Splinter had felt his pain.

“I’m afraid so,” Master Splinter confirms, “but I’m afraid what I felt was not physical pain. It was much worse. I heard his thoughts, fragments of what he’s experiencing – it was hard to follow and much of it was – dark.”

Even Michelangelo puts down his fork – suddenly no longer hungry. “Sensei?”

“I fear that time may be running out for your brother,” Master Splinter continues, his hand on his chin, “I am not sure that he is himself anymore.”

“Not himself? Why?” Donatello asks.

Master Splinter gives him a small, sad smile, “When the connection was made, the first thing he did was ask for help.”

 

* * *

 

It’s two in the afternoon and Donatello is just returning to check on his computer with his half eaten sandwich in his left hand and mug of coffee in the other when he realises that he’s found something in his search. He scrambles for the mouse, downloading everything immediately.

He clicks on the file to unzip it – and everything opens at once. There are pictures of Leonardo upon capture, numerous documents detailing injuries, pictures of wounds, numbers of stitches and – his heart sinks – documents detailing reports and experiments involving brain worms and torture.

The Shredder has been trying to turn Leonardo into a weapon.  
“Raph!” Donatello yells, “Get in here!”

Donatello finds a video file by accident – he’s opened up every file at once so when he switches to a video taken of their brother in a room fighting a foot soldier, he’s taken aback. It’s his big brother. His leader. Alive. And fighting. He’s fighting them. Fighting back. Their Leonardo. His Leonardo. His brother. Though he knows that for his brother to still be alive means that he must have suffered a great deal – he can’t help the happiness and relief at discovering their brother alive.

Donatello can feel himself starting to tear up, just as Raphael barges into the room, followed shortly by Michelangelo.

“Found him,” Donatello reports, “Here. Look.”

“He’s alive,” Raphael breathes in relief.

“Yeah,” Donatello grins, “He is.”

He turns around to look at Michelangelo who’s standing very still, his expression one of shock. Donatello turns in his swivel chair to face the youngest brother and extends his arms. Michelangelo barrels into him, bursting into tears.

“We’re gonna get him back,” Raphael tells them both, his hand on Michelangelo’s shell. Donatello nods, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah,” Donatello straightens up, “We need a plan though. And I really should read these documents first – they used a brain worm on him.”

“So he’s under Shredders control?” Michelangelo sniffs, pulling away from Donatello though he doesn’t protest to Raphael keeping a hand on his shell.

Donatello pulls up the document he was reading, “It wasn’t enough to brainwash him entirely, so they had to try something else in conjunction with the brain worm.”

“Figures that he’d the one to resist it,” Raphael grumbles. Donatello shoots him a sympathetic glance, knowing that it still remains a difficult topic for the hothead, but Raphael ignores him, “What’d they use?”

Donatello pauses, taking in a deep breath. He opens his mouth to say something, to tell them what he’d read – but he can’t say it. Shaking his head, he gets the video file back up and lets it continue playing.

“First they make him fight a foot soldier,” Donatello explains, rubbing his eyes, “Something happens to him here, though, you see him just go down without the soldier even touching him?”

Raphael and Michelangelo nod, neither of them taking their eyes of the sight of their older brother laying in a heap on the ground. Donatello replays the footage slower and continues to talk them through it, “It’s as though he’s had an electric shock of some form – maybe from the brain worm, I’m not sure – anyway, he’s unconscious. You see here that the foot soldier is executed somehow – but he falls to the ground too without Leonardo even touching him. When Leonardo wakes up later, he sees the body, remembers attacking, and assumes that he did it.”

It’s the perfect way to torture the eldest, Donatello recognises, glumly. His eldest brother has always prioritized honor. Believing that he’d killed, that he’s a murder – it would destroy him. And they all know it.

“This is fucked up,” Raphael says what everything is thinking.

It’s too much for the Hamato siblings to take in as they read through some of the documents together. The video footage still plays on another screen. It’s the same thing, over and over, starting from the day after Leonardo went missing. With the footage playing at a slower pace, they can see the moments in between the fighting. Though none of them talk about it, they all watch as their leader begins to crumble.  
 

“Gear up,” Raphael says, once he can’t take anymore of watching his brother suffer and can no longer focus on any of the reports – he needs to hit something. Hard.

“Hold up. We need to plan this carefully, Raph,” Donatello’s face settles quickly into a frown, “There wasn’t any evidence of these files or the Foot having Leo anywhere until today even though these files go back months. I scanned their entire database, Raph, there was nothing. But today I just run one quick search in the background and these all magically turn up? You know what this means right?” 

None of his brothers say anything, but Donatello spells it out anyway.

"These files are here because the Shredder wants us to have them,” Donatello sighs, “This is a trap – and Leo’s bait. Shredder’s only letting us see this stuff because he thinks he’s won – that he’s broken Leo and that he has him under his control-”

“Don’t say that,” Raphael snaps, “Leo wouldn’t- we just need to get the brain worm outta him-”

“Raph, he’s been there for nearly a year,” Donatello says, standing up to meet him, “Leo’s tough but not indestructible. This is – this is a whole new level. He _tortured_ him, Raph. Even if we get the brain worm out – he’s going to be traumatized. He might not remember who we are-”

“Why wouldn’t he remember us?” Michelangelo frowns.

“Torture is a powerful thing,” Donatello sighs, “If this has been his life every day since he was gone – he might not be the Leo we remember and we have to prepare for that possibility-”

“We can’t leave him there,” Raphael interrupts, not wanting to imagine their brother as anything other than what he remembers, “We have to get him back.”

"I know," Donatello rubs his forehead, frustrated, "I’m not suggesting that we leave him there. I’m just saying that we can’t just go rushing in there. Give me some time to read over these files – if I can find a recent one, I can get an idea of Leo’s state of mind so we can prepared and come up with a plan.”

Raphael considers it, “We leave the moment it gets dark out, Donnie.”

“Gotcha,” Donatello says, stretching out his fingers, his mug of coffee and sandwich forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

Even Michelangelo knew it wasn’t the greatest plan they’d ever come up with and for that reason, he wasn’t really surprised that they were busted the moment they stepped inside the Shredder’s lair. Without the element of surprise and the Shredder definitely expecting them all to show up that night - they really ought to have just rung up Shredder and arranged a convenient time for them all since they all knew what was going to happen anyway.

Not for the first time since his brother vanished, Michelangelo wished his eldest brother was here. Leonardo was always the turtle with a plan. Without him, the short amount of time they had to prepare and their emotions running high – the plan they’d put together was sloppy and rash. But they had to try. They had to get their brother back. So even though they all shared the same doubts and fears, they went with it. They had no idea if Shredder had been successful in his attempt at brainwashing their leader – though Donatello had reminded them that if the Shredder had been bold enough to boast about having their brother now, either the brainwashing and torture had worked or it’d been too much and he’d broken him – but none of them wanted to think about that.

So they decided to go in under the impression that Leonardo had been brainwashed. The Shredder had given them enough clues to figure out how he’d gotten control of Leonardo, but not enough to figure out how to undo it – that was something Donatello would have to work on once they got their brother out of there. They couldn’t rely on Leonardo to get up and start fighting alongside them as soon as they got in there. Nope. This time, it would just be the three of them.

So they do just as they had discussed before they left by sneaking in as quietly as possible through an entrance they hadn’t used before. But they needn’t have bothered. As soon as they’re in the building, with the window closed behind them, the lights come on and the Shredder is sitting in front of them.

“Predictable,” The Shredder says, sounding bored.

“You know what we’re here for, Shredder,” Raphael calls, “Just give me back my brother and I’ll go easy on ya.”

Shredder laughs, “If you can convince him.”

Leonardo steps out. He’s wearing Foot gear – his blue bandana replaced with a black one and the Foot symbol on his arm. Michelangelo can’t take his eyes off him and suddenly he’s full of something he’s so rarely feels – pure rage. He felt it the last time they were in this situation with Raphael – but this time its multiplied. It’s the scars and fading bruises that cover his body. And the way his brother – his leader – is standing. The Leonardo he knew stood with confidence, with this natural sense of pride that had a way of making Michelangelo feel safe. But this Leonardo stands differently - his muscles tense and shoulders hunched, as if protecting himself. He feels his chest tighten. Michelangelo searches his face, for any sign of recognition, some kind of acknowledgement or hint that his brother is still in there – but there’s nothing. This Leonardo in front of him isn’t his brother. He knows in an instant that this isn’t like that time when Raphael was brainwashed. This is much worse. 

“You bastard,” Michelangelo narrows his eyes, and his brothers turn to look at him in surprise but Michelangelo has his eyes on shredder. He reaches for his nunchucks.

“You’re going to pay for this, Shredder.”

“Am I, little one?” The Shredder asks, sounding amused. His tone and relaxed manner just infuriates Michelangelo even further and he takes in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure and channel his rage. “Leonardo, dispose of them.”

“Let me,” Michelangelo says to his brothers, quickly, and races forward to meet his brother. Leonardo moves quickly – quicker than he had anticipated with the wounds on his body. Michelangelo throws up his nun chucks just in time to deflect the blow. Leonardo moves again, but Michelangelo is faster this time, dodging every swipe, every kick.

“Hey, brother,” Michelangelo says, and he tries his hardest to keep his anger in, to keep his voice light and act as though they are just training together in the dojo, “I want you to know this isn’t your fault, okay? I know Shredder’s the one making you do this.”  
Leonardo doesn’t reply, and it’s so unlike the time with Raphael. Raphael even brainwashed was still him – still answered back, still sounded the same. But Leonardo is giving no indication that he’s even heard him, continuing to put Michelangelo through his paces. He works hard – harder than he ever has before to keep up with his brother, to predict his moves. But this Leonardo doesn’t fight like his brother – he doesn’t fight fair. His style is much more what he’s seen of Raphael’s when he fights thugs in alleyways – he’s much more rash, responding to every movement of Michlangelo’s and he realises his brother is fighting more out of fear – lashing out at everything, constantly trying to put distance between them to protect himself. Michelangelo’s heart goes out to his brother for all that must have happened to him, and he pays for it as Leonardo gets in a few hits due to his distraction, but he swallows it down again, quickly.

He doesn’t fight his brother – instead just blocking or dodging his every move. He doesn’t counteract his moves, just concentrates on keeping Leonardo’s katanas away from him. His brother fights with more frustration and less accuracy that Michelangelo has ever seen -

“Fight me,” Not-Leonardo demands, after a while, his voice sounding strained, as if he’s used it too much, and Michelangelo doesn’t want to think what that could mean, “Properly.”

 _He wants to fight fair_ , Michelangelo realises, and he feels a surge of hope then – that his brother is in there after all.

“No," Michelangelo says, firmly, meeting his brothers eyes for a brief second before the eldest moves away, "You're my brother. I don’t want to fight you.”

For a second Michelangelo sees a flicker of hesitation, before Leonardo delivers a kick to his chest, catching him off guard. It knocks the wind out of him momentarily – and Michelangelo loses his balance, crashing to the ground. He finds the katana pointed at his head.

“I’m really sorry it took us this long to find you,” Michelangelo tells him, feeling himself tear up, “I’ve seen some of the footage of what happened to you. I’m so sorry you had suffer alone like that, Leo.”

“Leonardo, finish him,” The Shredder commands. Michelangelo keeps his eyes on his big brothers face, silently willing him on, to fight this.  
Leonardo’s face crumples in pain, suddenly. His katana lowers, his grip loosening and his other hand twitching, suddenly flying up to his face as if he has a terrible headache.

“You wanna fight?” Raphael swoops in, half a second later and knocking Leonardo’s katana out of his hand, “Fight me!”

“He’s in there, Raph!” Michelangelo yells, “I saw him – he’s fighting it! Leo! _Leo!_ ”

Raphael knocks the leader to the ground, his sai raised in the air. He looks down at his only older brother, who doesn’t even appear to be aware of the fact that he’s been knocked to the ground but is instead wriggling underneath him, trying to curl up on himself.

“Leo,” Raphael tries again, and he tries to grab a hold of his brother, to hold him still and stop him from thrashing about and hurting himself, “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s Raph.”

“Leonardo!” The Shredder commands again, and his brother stops squirming finally, his body stiff with fear – and it’s not like Raphael has never seen his brother his scared, even despite his best efforts to hide it, but he’s never seen his brother look this terrified.

Realizing that pinning him down like this probably isn’t helping or the best way to convince Leonardo that they are his brothers and that they don’t want to hurt him, he moves off quickly. Instinctively, he reaches out to him with a hand before he can think better of it, but Leonardo swats it away and clambers to his feet, though he sways so much Raphael prepares, his hands outstretched, to break his fall.

He’s so busy watching his brother – in fact, they all are. Too busy worrying that he’s all right, wondering if maybe, somehow, he remembers them, that none of them notice the Shredder appears behind Leonardo, suddenly, grabbing him with ease by the strap across his shoulder and lifting him into the air.

* * *

 

He does not understand. The other turtles are crying for him - begging the man wearing so much metal armour and big, sharp claws not hurt him. They look just like him, but with different coloured masks. They protect each other with such fierceness that he’s never seen before and yet it feels so familiar. The way that they look at him as though he is their equal. He feels as if he remembers them from somewhere, but he can’t quite remember why or how. He can’t understand why any of this is happening. Why the man holding him up is looking at him with such disgust and hate – he doesn’t know quite what he’s done. The turtles look to be in physical pain as they watch him being thrown about and somehow, he feels responsible for their pain though he can’t figure out why.

It isn’t until the Shredder hits him, that the claws dig into his skin and he feels himself being thrown through the air that Leonardo remembers. Remembers that he’s felt this before – that this same thing has happened to him before. He remembers. Remembers his dream with the rat. Remembers the devastating loss and grief as the darkness swallowed him up. This pain is worse, somehow. With a dose of shame and guilt that he hadn’t felt last time.

His head hits something hard – the ground, probably – and suddenly everything is amped up. He hears the screams of his name, the Shredders horrible laughter and the angry stream of curse words. He hears everything, all at once.

The Shredder has moved away from him. Bored and disappointed in him, Leonardo presumes. The turtles are still calling him, their voices getting further away and he tries to move his head to find them, to look at them. He knows he has to warn them, tell them to escape, protect them somehow. He’s still not entirely sure why he suddenly feels so strongly for them; why their survival somehow seems essential to his own. With dark spots appearing in his vision, his eyelids suddenly too heavy to hold.

For the longest time, there was nothing. He felt nothing. But as he loses consciousness, finally, Leonardo feels everything.

 

* * *

 

“What a waste,” The Shredder says, looking to where Leonardo has fallen. “I expected more of Hamato Yoshi’s heir.”

Raphael launches forward before his brothers can stop him, a hurl of insults and curse words and threats leaving his mouth – but Raphael’s not really aware of what he’s saying anymore. He’s overwhelmed with the desire to kill this monster – this monster who’s not only tortured his brother for almost an entire year, but the rest of his family, too.

The Shredder just bats him away like it’s nothing – like he’s nothing. And it infuriates him more. As he picks himself up, wiping blood from his mouth, he lets out another yell of frustration and prepares to throw himself once more.

But his baby brother intervenes.

“Raph! Raph – we have to go,” Michelangelo grabs a hold of him, using all of his energy to keep Raphael from pouncing, “I know. I know. Believe me – we’ll be back. But please – Raph – Leo. Leo needs us.”

The Shredder’s watching them, with an unbearably smug look on his face. Raphael narrows his eyes, hand gripping his sai even tighter – but Michelangelo pushes himself into his line of sight, forcing Raphael to look at him. To see the desperation and fear in his little brothers face. He looks behind him to see Donatello by Leonardo’s side, his eyes wide and hands trembling. He sees the blood then, under his brothers body and he knows what they have to do. Without a moments hesitation, Raphael shoves his hand down to his belt and throws down the smoke bomb.


	4. Chapter 4

_When he awakes, there is a body beside him. He yells out, alarmed, instinctively he kicks out to push himself away. He miscalculates and his foot accidently collides with the body and Leonardo jumps back, his head colliding with the wall behind him. He lets out a shriek in horror as he does so – his eyes stuck on the blank face staring back at him. He looks at his hands, at the blood over himself, on the ground, on the man – it can’t be. He couldn’t have done that – he would never!_

_He remembers this fight but he doesn’t remember doing anything like this. He only wanted to knock out the man – to stop him from killing him. He didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t! He couldn’t have!_

_But the evidence is right in front of him. He looks down at his body to see his own wounds but he feels no pain._

_The door opens suddenly and Leonardo's hands fly to his swords only to remember that he does not have a weapon. They aren't coming for him, anyway, instead the men do not acknowledge Leonardo's existence but instead drag out the mans body, leaving a trail of blood, and Leonardo is left alone again._

_He feels like crying but there is nothing; he pushes his knees up to his chin, holding his head in his hands and just – trembles._

_This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. This is a nightmare, just a bad dream. He’ll wake up any moment and he’ll be somewhere else – somewhere safe. He’s not a monster. Not a murderer. He can’t be._

_But nothing’s coming. No one’s coming to save him from this. There are no answers. Did he kill the man? He goes over it again in his head – they were fighting. Leonardo was losing. So how is he alive and the man is dead? Why isn’t he dead instead?_

* * *

 

He wakes up to pain. He moves his head to the right, slightly, shutting his eyes again before he’s even fully opened them and tries to go back into being unconscious. There’s a loud thump and he finds himself being thrown up in the air, as if in a vehicle rolling over something. He frowns, realizing that no, he is not on the cold stone floor that he’s become accustomed to sleeping on. In fact - he's moving. Or the place is. He's not quite sure.  Is he in a vehicle after all? It doesn’t make sense. He fights to open his eyes but they seem so heavy and impossible to lift.

Someone’s yelling from somewhere and that makes even less sense – Leonardo can’t remember the last time he heard someone’s voice, really. He tries to concentrate on the voice, to focus it. It sounds familiar but he doesn’t know why.

It starts to come back to him in flashes, then. He was fighting someone. There were turtles.

He blinks furiously, trying to see, to look for more clues - but his vision is still blurry and his head too heavy to hold up. His body is aching and tired and just so heavy.

There's noise all around him - faint figures moving around. They seem to close, too overwhelming. He can't focus, though. Someone is speaking, softer now, he realises, but he can't hear the words.  He feels something - someone - touching his arm and a face in front of his and he stares at it, concentrating, until the figure isn't so blurry. He recognizes the green face – he knows this turtle. It clicks, then. This turtle is his brother. He frowns. He can’t map out the details – his vision too blurred and his head so confused – he doesn’t know which one this is.

"It's me, Leo," the turtle says, his voice slow and careful, "You’re in the shellraiser, everything’s okay. We're taking you home, okay?"

_Home_. Just the word feels warm and comforting – he can just about picture it in his head but the details are still blurred – he can’t quite see it. He tries not to frown – the turtle is still watching him, after all. Leonardo tries really hard to keep his eyes open, he feels like he’s been waiting a long time for this moment. That he has so much to tell them – that he has to warn them of something important. But the turtle squeezes his hand.

“You can rest, Leo,” he says, “Let us look after you, okay?”

Leonardo nods, mostly because he’s too tired to try and speak and his eyes are closing again despite his best efforts.

* * *

 

_“Join me, Leonardo. You will not be harmed again.”  
_

_His head spins and he kind of feels like he’s falling – but somehow his head doesn’t hit against the ground so Leonardo knows he’s managing to hold himself up somehow._  
“Never,” Leonardo’s voice is just a whisper. He’s been here for a long time. His reality has become indistinguishable from his nightmares – he can’t really remember how he got here anymore. Can’t really remember who he is – or who he was. But he knows this man in front of him – knows they are enemies. Knows this man is responsible for his pain. Knows that this man is bad and not to be trusted.  


_But he won’t be harmed again. How can he not consider that option?_ No, you idiot. _He can hear this voice in his head but he can’t place it – not sure if maybe he just made it up.  
_

_“You think they’ll coming for you, don’t you?” Shredder laughs. Leonardo bows his head and shuts his eyes to block out the horrible sound. “Where are they, Leonardo? Your precious family. They don’t care. They don’t want you. You’re a monster, Leonardo. Just like me.”_

_He has family?_

_He can see them – sort of. Picture their faces. He has brothers, he thinks. A father too. People who love him and count on him. He can’t let them down. Leonardo finds his head being yanked up, the Shredders steel claws cold and sharp under his chin, he feels the blades against his throat. He thinks he should be afraid but Leonardo can’t really bring himself to care. Instead, he looks death – Shredder – in the eye and waits.  
_

_“Look at you,” Shredder mutters, “You’re defeated. Broken. Why do you still you refuse my offer.”  
_

_Leonardo remains silent and the Shredder grows bored.  
_

_“Get him out of my sight,” He spits the foot soldiers, as he raises one claw to smack Leonardo aside._

 

* * *

 

He wakes up with a start, his heart thumping painfully in his chest and the scent of blood still in his nostrils. There's a noise somewhere to his right, a voice, and just as a hand reaches out to touch his, he jumps. He tries to push himself up, to stand, but he discovers his hands are strapped down. He frowns, confused. He gives a sharp tug – in the process feeling the surface beneath him shift and wobble.  But someone steadies it, pulling the metal table level again so that he doesn’t topple it.

"Woah! Leo - easy, man, it's us!" The shorter turtle grunts, "Careful."  
 

Leonardo's eyes wander up to look at his brother for the first time in months.  
 

"Raph,” He tries to say, but his voice won't work. He looks around them - there's no way they can be here. He blinks again and realizes that he knows this place – this room.

He’s been here before. It’s a lab. His other brother’s lab. Donatello. Everything is how he remembers it – and by that he means the lab is hardly recognizable and cluttered with various projects his brother has been working on and notes scribbled on post it notes and notepads everywhere that are illegible. He frowns. No. This can't be real. But his brothers are here - all three of them - watching him carefully.  He takes in each of their faces - counting the freckles on his youngest brother, the darkened eyes of the second eldest, and the tooth gap of the genius of the family – he knows, somehow, that this isn’t a trick but he feels as though it should be.

"I’m home?” It comes out as a question, his voice breaking.

"Yeah,” Raphael answers him, as he moves forward slowly to undo the cuffs around his wrists. Leonardo watches him, studying his face, but he can’t read his expression, "You're home, bro."

This seems to trigger life into the other brothers – Donatello moving quickly with a glass of water in hand and Michelangelo taking a few steps closer with a big smile on his face. 

“Slowly,” Donatello instructs, as Leonardo accepts the glass and raises it to his lips. He does as he’s told, taking small sips while his brother scans him over with his eyes. He’s wary, Leonardo realizes.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up,” Leonardo murmurs, acknowledging his bruised wrists. Donatello shifts awkward, the smile falls from Michelangelo’s face and Raphael tenses. “Did I-?” He trails off, not sure if he wants the answer. His brothers are each covered in bruises and scrapes – but whether these were from the rescue mission or from him, Leonardo isn’t sure and his brothers careful expressions aren’t giving him any clues.

Everything in his head is still – foggy. He’s still not entirely sure this isn’t a dream. Everything about this place, his brothers, it’s familiar but foreign at the same time. It’s too perfect, too convenient for him to be here.

He remembers himself before all of this, sort of. But he doesn’t know how he should act – how he would have acted. He feels like he should be fixing this - that was what he did before, right? He fixed things. Protected his brothers. Comforted them. Lead them.

But right now – Leonardo doesn’t feel like a leader. He feels – tired. So tired. 

Leonardo’s eyes find the youngest - who is uncharacteristically quiet. The familiar knot of guilt starts to build, Michelangelo's eyes are wide and afraid. He wants to reach out to him - to all of them, in fact. 

But he can’t trust the fact that he’s really here. Not all of him is – that he’s certain of. But he’s not sure really who all of him is anymore – the leader he once was once, or the murder he’s become? He can’t trust himself to speak, really, can’t trust himself to move. Afraid of himself, of his hands – of what he’s capable of. And in part, afraid of his brothers. Of what they think of him, of what they’d they do if he told them the whole truth about what happened – and he knows they want that. He knows they want answers.

“You didn’t hurt us, Leo.”

It’s not what Michelangelo says that makes his head snap up to look at him – it’s the way he says it. His voice full of tears. He doesn’t quite understand. Why is he crying?  
“

You hurt yourself,” Donatello tells him, slowly, “When you woke up the last time. That’s why we had to restrain you. Do you remember?”

_Oh_. Leonardo shakes his head though the movement makes him feel dizzy – he blinks a few times, moving one hand up to his head as if to hold it from falling off.

“Everything is jumbled,” Leonardo breaks the silence, “Can you fill me in? On – everything?”

“I think you should sleep some more first,” Donatello responds, and Leonardo does his best not to move away from the touch when Donatello raises a hand to his forehead, as if all that’s wrong with him is a simple cold, “I think you’re still fuzzy from the pain meds. You look pretty pale, too.”

Leonardo accepts this silently. He wants to know – but he also kind of doesn’t. He isn’t really in a hurry for his brothers to know the whole truth about him, either. He’s partly afraid that they already do – but he’s happy to let that slip under the rug for now and instead just breathe in the scent of _home_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that I have in reserve so updates are going to start getting slower I'm afraid.

He’s been moved into his room. It’s the first thing he notices when he wakes up. He doesn’t quite remember everything – but he knows this is his room, somehow. He appreciates the touch - the familiarity of his room is comforting and the scent of incense fills his nostrils. He breathes it in, shakily. It's not a magic fix - but it makes him feel calmer, just for a moment, before reality kicks in. 

He looks around the room - looking at the books on his shelf, the stuff on his desk - everything in here just feels right. He shifts his eyes around the room, taking note of everything he sees, trying to remember how he obtained the item or it’s significance. It doesn’t come to him immediately – he can’t quite remember why he has so much Space Heroes stuff but he figures he must have liked it a lot.

There is something out of place in his room, though. The familiar green turtle, curled up on the floor beside him, snoring softly. He stays laying down but moves his foot down to kick his brothers shell, lightly. The younger turtle jumps awake. 

"Go to your bed,” Leonardo tells him.

"Leo? Oh - oh. Leo. I'm sorry. I was supposed to stay awake," the brainiac rubs his eyes, "What time is it? Don't tell Raph I fell asleep - it took me forever to convince him that he should sleep and that I was wide awake-"  Donatello cuts himself off, shaking his head, “You look like you’re a bit more with it, this time. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Leonardo answers, almost automatically. Donatello leans over again to feel his forehead again.

“Do you feel any pain?” Donatello pushes him a little further, realizing his question wasn’t quite specific enough and one that Leonardo was always exceptionally good at not answering. Leonardo considers it for a moment before shaking his head. He’s not exactly in pain – just generally achy and tired.

“Do you remember waking up earlier?” Donatello continues, and Leonardo nods. “Do you remember waking up before now?”

Leonardo frowns, concentrating. He remembers screaming, lots of screaming. But he’s not really sure if that was him or someone else or another memory – he’s done a lot of screaming since he last seen his brothers. “I don’t know. Maybe? Everything is just -”

“Jumbled up?” Donatello supplies, and Leonardo nods. “That’s okay. I expected that, actually. The first time you woke up, it was when we were getting out the brain worm. You pulled out your stitches. That’s why you woke up earlier restrained – sorry about that. It wasn’t about protecting us, it was about protecting you.”  
He remembers as his brother talks him through it, though he knows that his brother is omitting the details – that getting the brainworm out must have been very painful. But he’s happy to push that out of his head to deal with another time.

“Stitches?” Leonardo murmurs. He knows he’s injured – he remembers that. But he hasn’t really thought or looked at those injuries until now. He tries to wriggle out of the bedsheets wrapped around him.

Donatello reaches over to pull them down for him, “I don’t think you’ll be able to properly see without a mirror, but just here.” He lightly brushes the skin a couple of inches away from the wound starting from his shoulder and running down to his collarbone. “You also have a cracked shell and a pretty deep cut on your leg that looked pretty nasty - but it’s already looking considerably better.”

Leonardo nods in response, sinking back down into the safety of his bed. He wraps himself up tight in a little cocoon of blankets and breathes in deep. His body still hurts all over – and he’s still so tired. So overwhelmingly tired from everything.

“Do you understand what happened to you?” Donatello asks him, gently. “I know you must be tired and I’ll let you go back to sleep after this, okay? But I want to make sure of something.”

“What?” Leonardo croaks.

“The Shredder used a brain worm on you,” Donatello tells him, slowly, “but you were fighting it – it wasn’t enough to control you. He had to try and…torture you into it.”  
Leonardo stills.

“I want to make sure that you know that anything you did while you were there wasn’t you. That none of us are disappointed in you or mad at you or anything else that you’re thinking, okay? We love you.”

He wants to spare him the details; he doesn't want to tell his brother that he is, in fact, a monster. No longer their big brother but something else much darker. Much more evil. A murderer.  Even if it means making them hate him - he has to keep them safe.  He has to warn him. That they can’t trust him.

“Do you know?” Leonardo asks, eventually. “What I did?”

He licks his lips nervously, eyes darting up at the faces of his brother. There's a band around his ribs and he can't breathe, he can't get in oxygen anymore. He knows it's a panic attack - he's had them before - but with the additional pressure of the pain from his bruised ribs and overwhelming exhaustion and dehydration - it feels so much worse, like this time he is actually going to die. This is it - he's dying. It's not even that he's unhappy about that fact - at least he can't hurt anyone anymore and he knows he kind of deserves to die after all that he's done over the past few months - the amount of people he's killed.

“I know what you think you did,” Donatello answers, his tone even.

"They put people in the room with me - ex foot soldiers. Shredder had ordered for them to executed and he wanted me to do it. They'd throw them into the room and they'd attack me. They'd try to kill me – I tried to just knock them to stop them from hurting me-" 

“Leo,” Donatello says, firmly, “Breathe. Okay. You don’t have to tell me this now”-

It’s the same voice that Leonardo used to use on him when he was the one having nightmares.

"I," Leonardo gasps, hating the way he's shaking. He can't bring himself to look at his brother so he concentrates on the floor. "I killed." 

It flashes in his head again - the bodies, the blood, the stench - he can see it. He can see everything and smell it and it's just so real. Around him, he hears his brother moving, trying to calm him. Using his calm, patient voice and it makes it worse because Leonardo doesn't deserve it. Any of it.  When he loses consciousness, his last thought is that he hopes that he will never wake up again.

 

* * *

 

 

           He sits in the same dojo that he saw in his dreams; in front of the same tree. In his dream, it calmed him. But it isn’t doing much to comfort him now that he’s awake. He tries so hard to focus, but it doesn’t come as easy to him as it used to. Not when his mind is still processing.

His brothers have reassured him that he didn’t really kill anybody. They’ve shown him their proof, too. He spent day just watching those videos over and over – until Donatello and Raphael decided that showing him probably wasn’t a good idea. Donatello had edited out the fighting parts of what he’d showed him, obviously trying not to upset him, but Leonardo wanted to see it. Needed to see it. Needed the whole story for himself if he was to believe that he’s not a monster.

It’s hard to wrap his head around. He can’t really believe it. Not when he remembers attacking, the blood on his hands, when he remembers the desperation-

He breathes in slowly, to clear his mind, to expel his thoughts. But the air he breathes in is full of blood and Leonardo opens his eyes again, panting. Gone is the dojo, and he’s back in his cell.

_No._

He’s home, he’s home, he was supposed to be home!

He can’t be here. But he sees it right in front of him – another body on the floor. He cries out, scrambling to put distance between him and the body. He looks down to see that he’s covered in blood – that no part of his hands are green.

_He didn’t do anything, he didn’t do this, he didn’t –_

**You killed him.**

Leonardo looks around but he can’t see the Shredder anywhere, but he can hear him. Hear the smugness in his voice. He shivers, pushing his knees up to his chest and trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

_No. This isn’t real._

**You are just like me.**

_Get out of my head, get out of my head, get out of my-_

**You’re a murderer. Your family will never forgive you.**

Leonardo doesn’t know how he didn’t hear the door opening, but suddenly the Shredder is right in front of him, looking down at him with a smirk on his face.

**Join me, Leonardo.**

_No. No. I won’t, I WON’T._

_As the Shredder bends down, Leonardo tries to push himself away but it’s no use – the Shredder reaches to him with his claw. Leonardo pounces then, before he can back down, tackling the Shredder to the ground._

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he opens his eyes, he finds that he is not looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom. It’s not the ceiling he’d stared at for almost a year, either. He frowns – he knows this place. He moves his head to the right to confirm his suspicions – it’s the tree in the dojo again, and looking past it, the weapons still on the wall.

“Leo?”

Leonardo snaps his head to the left to see Raphael kneeling beside him. His brother gives him a relieved smile, but there’s something in his face that Leonardo can’t pinpoint exactly – but he knows that something is wrong.

Leonardo frowns at him, before shifting again to look around the rest of the room for clues. But there’s nothing – everything else in place and they’re alone.

“Hey,” Raphael says, his voice quieter than before, “Just stay down, okay? You – uh, you pulled a couple of stitches out again, all right? Donnie’s gonna fix it in a second but he’s – ah- he’ll be a second.”

Leonardo frowns. That’s not right. Donatello too busy to help with an injury? He knows his brother – even if it’s a scrape he’d drop everything to help in an instant. No – if Donatello’s not beside him right now, then that means he’s prioritising – that means – someone else is hurt. Worse. He hurt someone. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need to – the way Raphael is looking at him just confirms it.

He sits up, quickly. Raphael makes a move to stop him, to grab his arm, but Leonardo sees it coming, dodging out of his brothers grasp and hurries, as quickly as he can out of the dojo and into the living room – which isn’t very fast.

“Leo,” Raphael’s right beside him, but he doesn’t try to touch him again, “C’mon, just sit down, okay? Everyone’s fine”-

Leonardo ignores him, and Raphael finally reaches out to him, but it’s only to steady him and take some of his weight as he hobbles, cursing his injured leg.

“Donnie,” Raphael calls ahead, “Leo’s up. Incoming, okay?”

It’s quiet in his brothers lab – too quiet. Leonardo’s heart sinks when he pushes the door open all the way.

 _Mikey_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to take a moment to thank everybody who has commented, left kudos or just clicked on this story to read. It really means a lot to me - usually I write one shots because that way I can just leave them behind once I post them so it's really scary to be posting something this long! Every time I update I get really scared and self conscious about my writing that I get really afraid to log into AO3 to check on this fic - but I've been very pleasantly surprised by the response so thank you all so much! :)
> 
> Happy Holidays, everybody! Whatever you might be celebrating tomorrow, I hope you all have a wonderful day. :)

Almost a week later, Raphael deals one last punch to the practice dummy for good measure once all of his frustration is out. The dummy looks worse for wear and Raphael's knuckles aren't any better. He turns around to find the lair strangely silent - no TV, no murmurs of Donatello talking to himself from the lab or laughter from Michelangelo's room as he reads his comic books.

He runs his shoulders back, feeling the frustration start to build again that he just can’t fix this. Nothing is going right. Leonardo had been reverting further into himself, refusing to stay in the same room as any of his brothers for longer than necessary, in particular Michelangelo - despite everybody reassuring them that it wasn’t his fault, they all knew the eldest was blaming himself for hurting the youngest. Even though it hadn’t been anything major – the youngest had simply gotten too close while Leonardo was having a flashback and, not thinking, he’d thrown him. They’d all hurt each other – and far worse, too – during training exercises, but no matter how many times they tried to tell him this, Leonardo just didn’t seem to be able to hear them. He knows Michelangelo is feeling guilty about what happened with Leonardo, too, even though he puts on the same big smiles and tells the same jokes – he’s spent a lot of time alone in his room lately. And Donatello has dealt with the additional stress in the way that he always does – barricading himself in his lab.

They’re finally all together again, and yet he feels further from his brothers even when one of them was missing. He finds the oldest Hamato brother in the dojo. The stillness just adds to his frustration - Leonardo isn't jumping around, letting out steam and sparring with air as he previously would have done. He isn't even meditating - instead he's sat in the corner of the room, shoulders slumped.

So Raphael makes his way over to the corner of the dojo and sits down beside him. He opens his mouth, prepared to make a _who are you what have you done with my brother? joke_ to lighten the mood, but he thinks better of it, remembering how he felt after his brainwashing experiencing. Like he wasn’t himself – and maybe that he never would be again. He’s still contemplating what to say, how to start a conversation when his brother suddenly moves, grabbing his hand and inspecting his knuckles.

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you tape these?”

Raphael doesn’t move away like he might have done before. It’s the first time Leonardo has initiated any form of physical contact with him in so long.

“It’s nothing,” Raphael says, instead. And Leonardo throws him a look, but doesn’t quite say anything. _Huh. You really are still you_ , Raphael thinks. “Figured you’d be in here blowing off steam, not hunched over feeling sorry for yourself.”

He knows he’s said it wrong the moment the words leave his mouth, but Leonardo doesn’t protest. And that just makes Raphael more worried about his brother, really. The Leonardo he knew would be tackling him by now, arguing with him, standing his ground. He sneaks a peak at his brother just in time to catch his face before it changes back to his default expression – and that’s when he realizes how afraid his brother is of letting go of control.

“Some leader, right?” Leonardo says, softly. “You wanna take over?”

“God no,” Raphael snorts. “It’s still your job. Listen-”

 But Leonardo interrupts him before he can try to give his brother some form of motivational speech, “Would you stop me if I tried to hurt anyone?”

Raphael frowns, “You mean one of us.”

“Would you?” Leonardo pushes.

“Yeah,” Raphael says, “Of course. But I don’t think you”-

“How?” Leonardo demands. “Would you-“

“You aren’t going to hurt anyone, Leo. I won’t let you.”

“Even if it meant hurting me?” Leonardo insists, as if he hadn’t even heard anything Raphael had just said. “If the Shredder did got me under his control again”-

“He didn’t get you in the first place,” Raphael tells him, “You fought it – Leo, you didn’t kill anybody.”

There’s a silence, then. He knows his brother is struggling to accept that – and he gets it, he does. Being under the influence of a brain worm has a way of doing that – making it impossible to trust yourself. So he gets why his older brother is asking him this and honestly – he’s glad that his brother is asking him, offering this piece of his trust.

“I just need to know,” Leonardo says, after a moment, “For peace of mind, I guess. If I can’t control myself- I need to know you’d stop me.”

Raphael sighs, “Yes. I’d knock you out or restrain you or something, okay? If it was absolutely necessary, of course and there was no other way, I would do it.”

“Thank you,” Leonardo says, finally. He sounds so grateful that Raphael can’t even look at him for fear that he might snap.

For the longest time, there had always been part of him that was resentful of his eldest brother. He was so perfect that it constantly infuriated him. He always seemed to be miles ahead of them in everything. He had always seemed so confident in himself and self righteous that Raphael had thought he was trying to make them look bad and playing teachers pet. And even as they’d gotten older and found themselves thrown into the middle of a feud between their father and the Shredder – he had found himself at odds with eldest more often than not.

It wasn’t until Leonardo had disappeared all those months ago that he had started to change his opinion. With his brother no longer around to lead them – it was Raphael who landed himself that role as the second oldest. And he hated it – he hated every part of it. The pressure to be as good as Leonardo and to please his father wasn’t by any means new – but suddenly it was unbearable. Suddenly, he found himself with more responsibility that he ever could have imagined – and it wasn’t until then he really realized what being leader meant and how much work it was. The pressure to make the right decision, to form not only one plan but have several back up plans at the ready when his other plan failed, to keep his anger in check so that he didn’t snap at his brothers when they disobeyed or argued, to comfort them all and keep them together in the way Leonardo had – there was no time for Raphael to really be himself anymore.   
With his eldest brother no longer beside him, all he had left of him were memories and reflections of their relationship. The more he thought about it, the less he remembered his brother as trying to be better than him, and the more he remembers all the moments he had overlooked. All the times Leonardo had watched them playing video games with what Raphael once thought was judgment but now recognizes as jealousy, how he’d stay up late doing the dishes in the sink and cleaning the lair because if he didn’t, no one else would, and most astoundingly – how he did it all with no complaints.

He’d been so wrong about his brother – who had only ever tried to protect them. He’d been a pretty rubbish younger brother before -

Raphael opens his mouth, to offer his brother who had been there and comforted him through so many difficult times some comfort of his own – except he becomes aware of a sudden weight on his shoulders – he huffs out a laugh, despite himself as he looks down at his brother who is finally asleep. Who wouldn’t sleep until Raphael could reassure him that he would stop him from hurting anybody should he wake up from another nightmare or have another flashback.

 _Yeah,_ Raphael thinks to himself. _You’re definitely still you._

 

***

 

He still feels as though he’s lost. It’s been nearly two weeks and he’s still just kind of floating. Time keeps passing and he’s just constantly trying to keep up with the daily routine of being home. The first week he was too out of it to really pay attention to anything happening around him, sleeping a lot and waking up at odd hours but as he starts to adjust back into normal hours, the more evidence he sees of his family seeming very put together without him. He’s not completely blind – he sees the cracks left by his absence. But he also sees the ways that they’ve become stronger and closer with each other – the way Raphael is much gentler and calmer when dealing with his younger brothers, Donatello sticking much closer to Raphael now than ever before, instead of disappearing into his lab, and how Michelangelo, his youngest brother, seems to have grown up. Raphael may have technically been their leader – but he sees the ways they all seem to be taking care of each other that he can’t help but wonder where he fits into this. He should be glad, but it makes it seem so much more impossible to connect with his family again.

“You have shut me out,” Master Splinter observes, after he dismisses his brothers for training but keeps Leonardo behind. Leonardo stills at the accusation and his mind tries to take him back to his time with Shredder and how he dealt with defiance, but he clenches his fists tight, nails digging into his palm as a reminder to stay in the present.

His relationship with his father has been strained since his return and, if he’s completely honest, Leonardo’s been avoiding him as much as possible though he’s not entirely sure why things are suddenly so difficult. Why he feels so uncomfortable around his own father.

“It’s quite all right,” Master Splinter assures him, “You were… _absent_ for such a long time. It is to be expected.”

Leonardo bows his head. Though he knows his father is not scolding him, he can’t help but feel guilty. Like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, he knows he is wrong. Like every part of him is so horribly wrong.

“For the sake of each other, your brothers could not fall apart,” Master Splinter says, and Leonardo is too tired to be surprised that the rat knows exactly what he’s thinking, “But they wanted to, Leonardo. We might call this place we live our home, but our real home is each other. Things will only get better, now that you have returned.”

Leonardo can’t decide if he’s grateful for his fathers word choice surrounding his kidnapping or if it infuriates him, because to say he has returned seems to imply that he was merely on vacation – as though he was absent by choice. But he knows his frustration is not with his father but with himself – frustration at his lack of control over what happened to him.

“However – I can see that you are not quite… _well enough,_ to reassume your role as leader,” Master Splinter says, and for this Leonardo sneaks a peek at his father, who meets his eyes, “You will not be until you put out the fire that our enemy has started within you.”

Leonardo lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He’s not entirely sure if he’s pleased or disappointed that Master Splinter isn’t asking him to jump right back into his role of leader. On the one hand, it takes off some pressure but Leonardo recognizes the familiar weight of shame and failure that he can’t quite seem to turn off.

The old rat finally gets up from his position and turns away, leaving Leonardo on his knees, watching as his father slides open the door to his room.

“I believe you already know what it is that you should do, my son."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed a line from 2k3 in this chapter - Michelangelo quotes something back at Leonardo that he'd told him, even though he technically hadn't in 2012 shhhhh. Admittedly, this chapter is kind of a filler because shit is going down next chapter.  
> Which is currently not yet written. Oops. I'm not too sure when I'll have time to write it but it shouldn't be much longer.

It’s so _hard_.

Michelangelo just wants to his brother to talk to him again, to laugh with him and to be able to hug him. But he just – flinches when they get too close, shies away from them and doesn’t weigh in on their conversations. He catches his older brother watching them from afar sometimes - watching them all play video games, observing him as he hums to himself when he’s in the kitchen making dinner, or sitting quietly on the edge of the sofa during their movie nights and always with the same pained expression. But mostly, Leonardo spends his time in his room or in the dojo just sitting. He hasn’t really spoken to any of them. And when they speak to him, he seems a million miles away from them. He doesn’t seem to really hear them. It’s like he doesn’t trust himself around his brothers, and no amount of interventions that Donatello and Raphael try to pull seem to have any difference.

His brother is home, but he’s not really with them and Michelangelo doesn’t know how to make it better. He’s trying so hard to keep up everyone’s spirits around the house – but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Over a week ago, he’d walked in on Leonardo having a flashback and tried to help, but instead just gotten in the way and gotten himself hurt. It wasn’t Leonardo’s fault –  but no matter how many times he’d tried to tell Leonardo that, to apologize for messing up, Leonardo just wouldn’t hear him. He wouldn’t give any indication that he’d heard, avoiding eye contact and just leave the room.

Disheartened after another failed attempt at talking to his big brother, he heads straight for his room after dinner. He makes an excuse about having some very important comic books to read when Donatello asks him if he wants to have a movie night and collapses to his head, burying his head in his pillow. Maybe Leonardo’s mad at him. Maybe he doesn’t want to be around him anymore. Maybe it really is his fault –

He’s knocked out of his thoughts when he hears the tap on his door and followed by the voice of his brother.

“Mikey?” It’s Leo, Michelangelo realizes, with surprise.  “Can I – can I come in?”

Michelangelo nods quickly, before he realizes that his brother can’t see him because, duh, door. Instead he quickly wipes at his eyes and gets up to open the door to his brother, who looks very awkward and uncomfortable.

Michelangelo does his best to give his older brother a smile, opening his mouth to put on his happy voice and ask his brother what he’s doing here until he realizes that Leonardo hasn’t actually seen his room in almost a year, it’s been so long since he’s seen his brother standing in his doorway and suddenly Michelangelo feels overwhelmed with memories of all the times his eldest brother has knocked on his door and come in to comfort him. He was so scared it would never happen again.

“Are you okay?” Leonardo beats him to it.

It’s so much like how everything used to be, Michelangelo thinks and almost bursts into tears right then. But he should be the one asking Leonardo that. He’s not the one who was brainwashed and tortured. Michelangelo sniffs and nods, not quite trusting himself to not start crying, and he really doesn’t want to cry because he knows that won’t help anything.

Leonardo hesitates for a moment, hovering in the doorway. Michelangelo’s afraid that his brother is just going to leave, but he pauses, seeming to think better of it, closing the door instead and gesturing to Michelangelo to sit down so they can talk. He obliges – and after he clambers back onto his bed to sit, his brother hesitantly sits down.

“I’m sorry,” Leonardo says, after a moment. “About – everything. I know I’m being difficult for everyone and I’m - I hurt you and I’m still hurting you. All of you. My being here is just”-

He sounds so not Leonardo like that Michelangelo swears his heart is breaking. He feels a quick surge of rage at the Shredder for beating his brother down like this – but its quickly overshadowed by worry and fear.

“Don’t say that!” Michelangelo protests. “Leo – you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Leonardo opens his mouth to protest, but Michelangelo shoots him a glance that says, _I’m not finished_.

“No. Really. Don’t apologize. You didn’t mean to hit me and I didn’t mean to sneak up on you and startle you – it’s no one’s fault, okay?” Michelangelo says, firmly. “Let it go, Leo, ‘cause I let it go the moment it happened, okay?”

Leonardo doesn’t say anything, so Michelangelo continues.

“You said once that if one of us goes down, we all go down. And you were right – one of us gets hurt, and we all get hurt. That doesn’t make it your fault – that’s just because we’re brothers and we love each other and it hurts to see one of us in pain. But we’ll get through it, okay? We always do.”  
“We all go down,” He catches the frown on his brothers face as he repeats, “I don’t remember that.”

He remembers that Raphael described the brain worm as something that tried to eat at his memories and alter them – particularly the happy ones. He hadn’t lost any memories permanently – just lost a couple of details, mixed up locations or who was involved – but he’d remembered them properly again as soon as one of his brothers, or their father, had corrected the details. Raphael was only under its influence for a few hours – but he still remained jumpy and getting things confused for weeks.

That thing had been inside Leonardo’s head for months – had his brother permanently lost any of his memories?

“Oh, Leo,” Michelangelo feels his eyes watering again, “I’m so sorry.”

Before he has time to think, he shuffles closer to his older brother and throws an arm around his shoulder, burying his head in his shoulder. He feels Leonardo go very still; but he doesn’t jump or pull away. After a moment, his brothers arm comes up to pat his head, hesitantly.

Michelangelo smiles to himself, “I missed you, bro.”

“Me too,” Leonardo says, hoarsely, “I missed all of you.”

They sit like that for a moment, until Leonardo suddenly clears his throat and Michelangelo looks up to see his brother looking almost embarrassed.

“Can you tell me some of your favorite memories of us all? I think – everything’s still in here, it’s just – like there’s other things blocking them and I need a reminder.”

Michelangelo gives him a wide grin, “Of course!

 

* * *

 

Michelangelo wakes in the middle of the night to a scream and he launches himself out of his bed, throwing his bedroom door open and starting for the room of the eldest. The light is on and Raphael’s sitting outside the door, hunched over and with his head hidden behind clenched fists.

“Raph?” Michelangelo slows down as he approaches. “What’s going on? Is Leo okay?”

“He had a nightmare,” Raphael answers, his voice muffled, “Donnie’s calming him down. Said it’d be better if we weren’t all in the room.”

Michelangelo looks at the door. He can hear Donatello’s voice – he can’t make out what he’s saying, but his voice sounds calming and he can’t hear Leonardo anymore, so Michelangelo presumes that whatever he’s doing is helping. Michelangelo sighs, it's starting to become a regular thing - waking up the sound of his brother screaming. With Donatello taking care of Leonardo, Michelangelo decides that it's his turn to take care of Raphael - he looks back at the second oldest turtle and notices the slight shake in his fists and slides down the wall to sit beside him. 

“What happened?” Michelangelo asks, gesturing to the red mark on Raphael’s forearm. He already has a clear picture of what happened, considering what happened between him and their older brother last week, but he asks anyway since it seems like his brother might need to talk.

“What?” Raphael raises his head for a second in confusion, but then sees what Michelangelo’s looking at, “Oh. He grabbed my arm when I reached out to him. Should’ve learned, huh?”

Raphael lets his head fall back against the wall with a little thump. Michelangelo can practically see the wheels in his head turning, knows his older brother is struggling to stay in control of his anger. He thinks about asking him if he wants to go hit the training dummy for a bit, but he knows that Raphael won’t leave. He thinks about distracting his brother with a joke, or making up a ridiculous dream so he can tell him about it, but he knows there’s nothing that’ll make him feel better, really. He also contemplates asking his brother outright if he'd like to talk or if he'd like to vent - but with Leonardo on the other side of the considerably thin wall, it's not really the best time and Raphael blowing up - which he would undoubtedly do if Michelangelo were to get him to talk - is the last thing they need right now. His heart still aches for his brother who's tried so hard to keep them all together - but the only thing he can do is sit here and wait with him.

So even though he wants to say more and wants to reach out, he doesn't. Instead, he sits close enough that their knees are almost touching – close enough for it to be comforting, but far away enough that he’s not overwhelming. He says nothing but pays attention as his brother takes deep breaths and his fists continue to shake, hoping that his presence is enough.  


* * *

 

By the time the Leonardo’s bedroom door opens several hours later, Michelangelo’s head has found its way onto his shoulder. Raphael doesn’t have it in him to be annoyed – in fact, he’s happy that the youngest is actually getting some sleep because they've all been pretty short on that lately. Raphael catches Donatello’s eye and then signals to be quiet, gesturing to Michelangelo. Donatello, unsurprised to find them both still outside Leonardo's room, nods.

“Leo’s asleep again,” Donatello whispers, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible and carefully sitting himself down on Raphael's other side, “Shredder really did a number on him.”

”Yeah,” Raphael agrees, not bothering to keep the glum tone out of his voice. “I knew when he woke up that he had no idea where he was. He didn’t recognise me, either.”

“We just have to be patient,” Donatello says, stifling a yawn. “What happened to him was bad, but he’ll come back to us if we just give him time.”

 _Will he?_ Raphael remains quiet, lost in thought again. He remembers what it was like – being under the influence of the brain worm. More than that, he remembers how long it took him to get his bearings again. He knows how bad it was for him, recognises it as the worst of what he’s ever been through. But his experience, by comparison, seems like a walk in the park – he understands better than the others why this has messed up their brother so much, while simultaneously recognising that he truly doesn’t understand – he can’t fathom how his brother is still alive and functioning, albeit not a lot, after what’s happened.

“Hey,” Donatello knocks his leg against his to get his attention, “I know this is hard, but we finally have him back.”

It doesn't feel like it. Though he knew, logically, the moment they found out what had happened to Leonardo that he wouldn't be swooping in to fix everything and take over as leader the moment he returned - some part of him had been expecting it. That was what big brothers did after all - they fixed everything. 

But sometimes, little brothers fixed things too. He thinks about his baby brother, who's now fast asleep on his shoulder but quite impressively sat with him silently for the longest time and was obviously trying to comfort him and calm him down.

“I know,” Raphael says, finally. “It’s just hard watching him suffer and not quite knowing how to help."

“We just have to be patient with him. Remember when he got those panic attacks after the invasion? As time went on, they got less and less. This time it might just take a little longer,” Donatello tells him, and then he nudges him again, “I remember you were pretty jumpy for a while after you were brainwashed. You’re probably in the best situation to help him. You understand it better than any of us.”

 _But I don’t know how_ , Raphael thinks, immediately. He shakes himself of such thoughts quickly, though, as his younger brother is still watching him.

“It’s pretty late,” Raphael mutters, instead, and gestures to the brother on his shoulder, “Better get this guy back to his bed before he starts drooling on my shoulder.”  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it?  
> I'm really sorry about the lack of updates. I just kind of lost where I was going; I had so many notes and lots of plans but in the end, none of it would come to me. I don't want to make excuses, but real life, you know? My physical health just deteriorated so suddenly that I just didn't have the energy to keep writing. I kept trying my hardest to go back to this story, to write the scenes I wanted to include but it just wouldn't happen. Maybe one day I'll be able to write them; if I ever do, I'll post the scenes I'd wanted to include either separately or maybe I'll edit this story to include them. In any case, I'll tell you guys the scenes I had planned in a note at the end of this so that nothing is spoiled.  
> I figured it would be best, rather than to keep those of you who had been reading for so long and waiting for an update, to just end this story now because I don't see myself, at this moment in time, ever finishing it properly. What you're about to read is the condensed, shortened version of how I wanted this story to go, although, I wrote the final section of this chapter the day I started writing this story. I knew what scene I wanted to end this story on before I'd even decided what exactly was happening with this story.

Raphael clocks the way his brother looks over them all at breakfast the following morning, carefully checking all of them for injuries and any evidence that he hurt someone the previous night. Raphael’s annoyed to find a slight bruise on his forearm from where Leonardo had grabbed him in a panic. It’s not even an injury, really – it doesn’t even hurt and it hadn’t at the time, either - but he knows that his brother will react negatively if he sees it, so he makes a conscious effort to keep his arm firmly planted on the table, with the bruise face down so his brother doesn’t catch it. He’s still not himself – but Leonardo seems to be trying extra hard this morning, to follow the conversation around him and even contribute. He can’t help but grin as he watches his brothers – Michelangelo in the middle of dramatically retelling a story, Donatello laughing along and the small smile that finds its way onto Leonardo’s face.

It’s the first time Raphael’s had the hope that somehow, they’ll all be okay again.

* * *

 

Leonardo waits until his brothers and father are fast asleep.

He feels guilty that he’s sneaking out – especially when his brothers had tried so hard to rescue him the first time and how patient they’ve been with him. But his father was right – Leonardo can’t lead his brothers again, not until he ends this. And he can’t endanger his brothers to do so – this is something he has to do on is own. For his own peace of mind. It doesn’t take him long to reach the lab where he was held. He might not be the tech genius that his younger brother is – but he’s learned a thing or two from watching him.

It takes far longer than it would have Donatello – but in the end he finds what he’s looking for. Confirmation that he didn’t kill anybody. He reads every document and downloads every recording of his capture onto a memory stick – just so he can double check it later.

Suddenly aware that he is no longer alone, Leonardo stills. He yanks out his katana to block his face just in time, the kunai deflecting and shattering to the ground.

“I was expecting you sooner,” muses the Shredder. Leonardo tightens his grip on his katana.

“You lied to me.”

“That I did,” the Shredder sounds so smug it makes Leonardo’s blood boil, “And it worked. It was so easy to break you.”

Leonardo inhales deeply to calm himself – he’s not yet back to full strength. He can’t take on the Shredder alone. As much as he wants to throw himself and attack – he cannot. So instead, he reveals the detonator in his hand. He had planned to escape and get to a safe distance before blowing the lab to pieces – but with the Shredder right in front of him, well, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. The Shredder yells something, starting to move toward him but Leonardo hits the button and a noise like thunder rips through him.

* * *

He opens his eyes to flames, the smell of burning and smoke filling up his lungs. He moves his head up just enough to see the rubble covering his body. He thinks about trying to get up but he’s so tired. His head falls back, hitting against the ground. There’s a ringing in his ears.

His eyes drift shut again, but almost as soon as they do he hears yelling. He frowns, trying to work out who he can hear. He opens his eyes but there’s no one around.

When he opens his eyes again, someone’s shaking him. He looks up into the faces of his younger brothers – sees the relief in their eyes and gives them a weak grin. The red cladded turtle reaches out to help him to his feet.

He takes his brothers hand and he allows them to help him up, out of the fire. 

* * *

 

"What were you dreaming about, my son?" Leonardo startles, his head snapping round and meeting the eyes of his father.

He had thought everyone else was asleep and so he did not control his expression - shit. Who knows what his expression could have revealed. He sits up straighter, wiping his face in attempt to keep it completely blank. They had piled up in Master Splinter's room again, like they did the night after something big happened as soon as they returned home. The room is dark apart from a small lamp in the corner of the room - the room quiet except for the occasional snore from one of his brothers, laid out on the floor beside him. Leonardo breathes in, allowing the familiar scent of incense, that his fathers room seems to always smell of, to fill his nostrils. He breathes out. Leonardo crawls out of his blankets, carefully avoiding the limbs of his brothers. He sits across from his father, who kneels.

"Sensei, why are you awake?" Leonardo says, rubbing his eyes, "It's late."

"It's all right, my son," Master Splinter leans over to place a hand on his shoulder, and it occurs to Leonardo that their father looks worn out and tired - it's then Leonardo begins to consider the effect that all of this had on his family. He glances back over to where his brothers sleep. Leonardo fidgets under the gaze of his father, who is still waiting for an answer to his original question.

"I saw myself," He says, eventually, casting a quick glance over to his brothers to assure that they are asleep, "I hurt them. I thought blowing up the place I was held would fix it but it hasn’t and I don’t know what to do now.”

"What would you have done before?"

"That's the thing - I don't know," Leonardo shakes his head, "I don't know because nothing like this ever happened before. How can I be the same as I was when I don't even remember who that is? I want to be - I want to make everything better. Make me better. But I can't."

"My son," Master Splinter says, gently, "You were gone a long time and what you experienced was...like nothing your brothers or I could ever possibly imagine. You were tortured and your mind filled with lies. This is not something that anybody expects you to simply bounce back from."

Leonardo shudders, his shoulders slumping over and he stares down at his hands until Master Splinter reaches out, his hand on Leonardo's chin and tilting his head up, carefully, until Leonardo looks at him.

"You did not hurt your family, Leonardo." Master Splinter tells him, firmly. "The Shredder did."

Leonardo looks away and Master Splinter sighs. "It is all right, my son, if you do not believe me yet," He says, "You need time to heal - we all do. Your brothers need you, Leonardo."

"I know," Leonardo says, quickly, "I can't afford to mope, I'm the leader, I have to-"

"No." Master Splinter interupts, "Right now they need their brother, not a leader. We will fix this as a family, Leonardo. A family that is open and honest."

Leonardo frowns, confused. "But - are you saying - I have to protect them, sensei -I can't - I can't tell them about it- I can't -" "But you must," Master Splinter says, firmly, "We are in this together, Leonardo. You are not alone."

Leonardo considers this, trying to wrap his head around it. His whole life - he's tried to shield his brothers. Taking as much of the burden and pain as he can. Master

Splinter makes a move, as if to go back to bed and Leonardo's head snaps up.

"Dad?" Leonardo winces at the tremble and uncertainty in his voice. No more words are needed - his father outstretches his arms and pulls his eldest son into his chest, a hand on the back of his head and his fathers head on top of his. All of a sudden, the dam breaks for them both and Leonardo cries in a way he hasn't done since he was very small.

Across the room, the brothers exchange glances. Michelangelo moves first; nudging Donatello as he carefully and quietly as possible, picks himself up out of his makeshift bed - followed closely behind by Raphael as they make their way over. Leonardo turns his head, spots them and laughs, in spite of himself.

"You guys look like little lost puppies," He sniffs, "Come here."

Michelangelo doesn't need telling twice, he throws himself over, wrapping his arms tight around Leonardo who grins and ducks his head. Donatello wedges himself under Leonardo's arm, placing one arm around Leonardo's shell and the other around their father.

"Don't worry, dude," Michelangelo says, "You're still the strongest, bravest big brother ever."

Leonardo waits for Raphael or Donnie to protest, but neither brother says a word. Leonardo kicks out with his foot, vaguely in the direction of Raphael, "Get in here."

He huffs out another laugh when Raphael snorts in response, but he feels his younger brother wedge his way in, somewhere behind him, with his arms around their other brothers.

"Glad you're back, bro" Raphael mutters in his ear, and then louder for the others to hear, "It's your turn to babysit. I'm out."

He feels Michelangelo turn to swat at him.

"You're grounded," Donatello tells Leonardo. "You have to stay here, forever. Safe."

"Okay," Leonardo agrees, "But you all have to stay too."

"You're all grounded," Master Splinter interrupts, "Forever. Grounded."

* * *

 

So, that's it! Again, I'd like to apologise for how long it's been and how rushed the ending is. There's so many missing parts of this story and so much more detail that I wanted to go into but I just couldn't find a way to explain it in the story ;_;  
I'd like to thank everybody who reads this story, left kudos or a comment - the support I've received for this fic has been overwhelming.

If you're wondering the scenes I had planned to include but just could not find it in myself to write: there was going to be a cute scene of the brothers having a family movie night where they build a fort in the living room the night before Leonardo sneaks out. After the confrontation with the Shredder, there was supposed to be an argument between the brothers (about Leonardo not consulting them and it was going to be heated) which would lead into the scene of the rest of the turtles overhearing Leonardo's conversation with Master Splinter and then all hugging it out. I also had a plan to include another scene as a sort of epilogue, a couple of weeks later, where the turtles would be out on their first mission with Leonardo officially reappointed as leader, he would still be dealing with the trauma of what happened but overall in a better place. Michelangelo would ask the others if they thought Shredder had died in the explosion and Leonardo would be the one to respond with "definitely not, but we're going to make sure he doesn't ever hurt anybody again" and it would open up the possibility of me one day writing a sequel to this fic.  
  
And, one last plug, if any of you are on tumblr, you can find me [here](http://www.cinnarina.tumblr.com)! I'd like to thank those of you who read this far personally so feel free to send me a message! :)


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